


Catalina

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy wants some place warm, Drawing, F/M, First Time, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Make Daisy Happy, Phil is a foodie, Sexual Content, Supportive Relationships, Vacation, body drawing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started out as an idea brilliantlyhorrid and I were discussing on tumblr and then turned into this.  Daisy and Coulson go on a vacation together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catalina

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts).



**_Now_ **

“Thanks.”

She shrugs a little and sits back to examine her handiwork for a moment, looking down at the underside of his forearm displayed on the tiny table.

“Daisy.  _Daisy_.  I’m not going to forget.  Alright?”

He sounds like he’s offering a pleading promise, like he’s done his time and now they should move on to more important things.

“Not quite finished.”

The very fine-tipped black pen is picked back up, and resumes its course.

“Then, what did you mean-“ he wonders, leaning forward.

“For your words, and your concern,” she interrupts, drawing the tip carefully along his skin, pursing her lips when she’s weighing whether or not to cover up another freckle she’s discovered.

“Following after you?” he asks, squirming a little in his seat at the ticklish feeling, as she makes a tiny curve, and he leans forward to try and see just how his punishment is coming along.

“No peeking.”

She wants to sound stern, and halts her movements, using her shoulder to block his view.

He gives her a weary smile, and settles back in his chair again with a huff.

“I meant about Charles,” she goes on. “When HYDRA took him.  That you were...sorry.  And...lots of things”

“Daisy-“ he sighs, all soft expression in his eyes, so curious why she’s going back to that moment.

“I know you know how much it means to me.” She continues, concentrating downward again, opening her mouth slightly to add a small and deliberate dot on his skin. “It means a lot that you mean it, too.”

“Thanks.”

She stares up at him, because of the way he says it.  Like he’s just so grateful.  Just wait until he sees-

“You have to be kidding.”

He furrows his brow, looking down at his arm now that her eyes are focused on him.

Her eyebrow raises and his face goes through a few stages of…something.

Annoyance? Endearment? Exasperation? 

Submission.

She lets her eyes follow his and sees the pen ink drying on his forearm, then leans down and blows. His hand flexes, involuntarily.

“This isn’t _permanent_ marker, right?”

A drawing of a daisy.  And the word after it: dammit.

She laughs, then bites her lower lip.

****

**_Two weeks earlier_ **

She can't do any more.   
  
It's a breaking point and she has finally discovered it. Sneaking up on her, oddly, in the aftermath.  
  
He brought her daisies. She knows it was so well-intentioned. To lift her spirits.  
  
Instead, she breaks down as he looks on, horrified, standing in the door to her bunk on the plane.  Their new home, for now.  Like they ended back up where they began, in a way.  
  
And being the kind of man he is, he gives her a determined look, and sets the flowers down inside and slides closed the door. To let him get his arms around her properly.  
  
It's been so long, and she's missed him, stiffening when he hugs her so closely to him.  Sliding her snotty face down to hide in his shoulder when there’s nowhere else to go, as they sit down together on the edge of her bed.  
  
“I'm _so_ tired,” she groans, her shoulders slumping, seeming too small for herself to him.  
  
“I know.” 

She finds herself caught off guard when his hand touches hers where it rests on her knee. Gently, like he’s making sure it’s allowed.  
  
“How do you do this?”

There’s an edge to her voice, like she needs him to divulge all of his secrets, right now.

“I shut it off.”  
  
It sounds more like a confession, and she must see his face.  His eyes are watery, too, and he looks as broken as his voice.  
  
“And then, I couldn't,” he adds softly.  
  
“Because of Ward,” she answers.  
  
He gives her a look of consternation and draws back for a moment, but wrapping his fingers around her hand, considering this.  
  
“No, not because of him,” he says distastefully, then softens when her brow furrows at him. “Because of you.”  
  
Her reaction is obviously not what he's expecting, and he looks instantly embarrassed.  
  
“You're a wonderful person, Daisy,” he says, taking in a breath, then pulling his hand away. “And a natural leader.”

He glances up at her, as she watches him, carefully. “My instincts were right. One of my decisions that was right, in any case.”  
  
He looks almost bashful as he goes silent.   
  
“I want time off,” she sniffs, rubbing her sleeve against her nose.  
  
“Done,” he replies, nodding at her.  
  
She’d expected him to put up more of a fight, and frowns.  He blinks and just gazes back, wondering if there’s something more she needs him to do.  
  
“Do you…want to come with me?”

It sounds _so_ hard for her to ask.  He wonders if she’s doing this for herself, or for him, and he hates that he has to wonder.  
  
“Me?” Is all he can manage, at first, staring at her with wide eyes, and then looks away when she does.  
  
“When's the last time you took off?” she presses, pulling at the edge of her sleeve sweater with her fingers.  
  
They both know the answer, but given recent events, he’s not going to bring up his involuntary Tahiti vacation.

This is an opportunity.  To do things differently than he did last time.  
  
“Sure,” he says, as she looks relieved, and then hopeful.  It makes him smile to see that look again. “Where?”

“Some place warm,” she breathes out, closing her eyes.

 

**_A week later_ **

They were supposed to have agreed upon a few things.

One: No electronic devices, except for a sat phone for emergencies.

Two: No SHIELD talk.

Third: …

He can’t remember, suddenly.

Because there is Daisy, her head tilted back, stretching and smiling in the sunshine.  Golden, even after just a day in.

Meanwhile, he’s covered in sunscreen and half-finished with this Travis McGee book, after sticking his head in it for hours.

Why Catalina?

Oh, that’s right.  Third: Good restaurants.

Of which, there are none here. So, he had to cook dinner last night, and he sighs, remembering that he broke rule #1 yesterday afternoon by reading terrible reviews of all the island’s restaurants to her from the sat phone. 

Catalina, because, she said she never came here when she lived in Los Angeles.

Catalina, because, it’s close enough to the mainland should they be called back -less expense and fuel for a Quinjet- okay, good idea there.

Catalina, because…she wanted it.

He’s not bored.  At all.  He’s never been bored once when he was with her.  As SHIELD Guy.

Maybe he’s boring her.

“Hey,” she says, reaching her hand out towards him.  “Do you want to go snorkeling in a while?”

She wants to see those orange fish.

“I want to see those orange fish.”

“Sure,” he says, resting his book against his leg.  “And we can decide what we want for dinner.”

“Or,” she grins, turning over on her stomach on the pool chair and looking at him above her sunglasses. “We could eat out.”

“You mean at that ‘yummylicious’ steak house?”

“I just didn’t want you to have to cook again,” she answers lazily, staring at the book sprawled over his leg. “You’re halfway through it already.”

“I know,” he agrees, and stares out at the pool in front of them.

“What are you going to do if you finish too soon?”

A near-violent wave of heat washes over him, starting with his face.

“Mini golf?” he suggests.  
  
  


 

There's a very modest reef around this island, and she likes this place.

It doesn't exactly really fit together. Kind of like her. 

Phil is annoyed when she cheats a bit at mini-golf, but she hasn't used her powers for days now.   And he did make a very good hole and she kind of ruined it for him.  She feels only slightly sad for him, though.

Okay, _mostly_ hasn't used her powers. She's used them by herself, but it's not the same thing.

“There’s camping on the other side of the island,” he mentions, as they’re walking back to the hotel after dinner.

They both survived playing tourists eating tourist food.  It was fun sitting in the restaurant, pretending they were other people when the waiter asked them too many personal questions.  Like spies playing tourists playing spies.

The waiter was only trying to figure out what they are to each other.  Good luck. Even they haven’t even figured that one out yet.

“You want to go camping?” she finally replies.

“Just getting into the spirit of things,” he shrugs, and puts his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts, and she’s wondering if he’s bored already.

She doesn’t know how to do this, either, when there’s not mission stuff between them.  It’s so simple when it feels like the whole world is pressing in on them.

“I don’t want to,” she says, resolved. “Can we just buy some beers and stay up late, and talk?”

He gives her a soft smile and they stop into the market on the way back to the hotel.  He picks out the beverages, and they continue on, up through the small gate by the pool, as he unlocks the door to the suite they’re sharing.

She cracks open one of the beers and hands it to him, and they sit down in the rickety bamboo chairs around the small table, set into a corner of the room.

He tips his bottle at her and she clinks hers against his, as they take a sip together in silence.

“We’re going to talk about SHIELD stuff, aren’t we?” she admits.

“Probably,” he smiles, laughing a bit at the awkwardness of it.  “At least you’re my favorite part of SHIELD.  So, that shouldn’t be too hard.”

She eyes him little more slyly, and takes another sip of her beer, slower this time, so she can still watch him.

“Flirty.”

“I _am_ capable of it,” he replies, with a smirk.

“So, Phil,” she says, leaning forward with her arms on the table. He watches as the sleeve of her dress slides off her shoulder.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he answers, adjusting in his chair a bit.

“That’s true." She holds out her pinkie towards him as her hand grips the beer. “Something you _wish_ I knew about you.”

“That I wish you knew, but never told you,” he repeats back, clarifying, as she nods.

“I’ll need a few more beers for that.”

 

#

She wraps herself tighter against him, now that they’ve worked out the logistics of her straddling him on the chair.  Her arms holding on the rungs at his back.

The chair is _very_ iffy.  She can feel the vibrations coming off of it.  Probably not very structurally sound.

It doesn’t matter, though, because he’s been in love with her.  This whole time.

She always knew she meant so much to him. But _this_.

 _This_ is like a revelation.  She’s felt so much distance between them.  Personally, not professionally. Right on the verge of convincing herself she had to give all of this up for their mission.

Her hips grind down on his with even more determination, as his hands hold onto them lightly, as if all he wants is to feel her move against him.

“I don’t have condoms,” he manages, as their mouths part, when she lifts herself for a moment to undo the zipper on him.

“We should be good though, right?” she says, hands moving efficiently.

“No more SHIELD talk,” he teases, putting his hands around her face to kiss her again, as she takes his shorts apart and he raises his hips to let her slide them with his boxers past his knees.

She takes her own underwear down her legs in a quick motion and then lets him take hold of himself and she slides her leg alongside his hip, eases down into him and then settles her other leg over as they start to find a rhythm together.

They’ve shared so much, and fought so hard together, this feels like the sweetest victory.

“I love you,” he says, again.  And yes, after a few beers, but she knows him, and what this means. “I love _us_.”

It's so clear, why she’s fought so much for this, and why he has, too.  Even if this had never happened, they would still have that.

But _this_  is, and it’s wonderful. She kisses him so deeply, as he gives her everything in this moment. Like he always has.  
  
It makes her feel more like herself than she has in far too long, and the sweet, happy, sweaty bliss is enough to take her right to the edge.  
  
"Coulson." It comes out like a gasp against his mouth as she squeezes him even tighter, with everything in her.

“Skye-“

He pulses against her, his body jerking in small, stuttering movements with hers, as the chair creaks its complaint beneath them.

“Dammit, Daisy,” she smiles, running her thumb across his bottom lip, then kissing it.

“Yes,” he breathes, looking so satiated and happy that she thinks she might cry.  She puts her head against his shoulder, smiling against his skin.

“I’m sure you’ll make me pay for that," he says, stroking his hand against her hair.

“I’ll think on it.”


End file.
